The End Where We Start
by spyder-m
Summary: After the war, Rukia and Renji couldn't stand to sleep alone. Even with Ywach seemingly vanquished, there was something keeping them from truly finding peace.


The End Where We Start

It was strange how readily his body would surrender to sleep, even in the midst of the Quincy war.

After all the battles, all the pain his body had endured, it was a necessity. With the danger that lingered, they still needed time to regain their strength.

Yet now, with Yhwach gone and the freedom to rest peacefully, sleep somehow alluded him.

Renji's eyes traced each crevice of the ceiling, as if wanting to savour the delicate flicker of moonlight crossing its grim expanse. It's sublime beauty, shrouded in mystery; every detail he had once felt slipping through his fingers, almost lost forever.

It reminded him so much of her.

The moon that his arms strained for, always hanging out of his reach.

They had remained by each other's sides throughout most of the war. Perhaps out of habit or need for comfort; knowing that the last time a conflict this great had fallen upon Soul Society, they had been torn apart and her life almost taken.

It was there that, standing before Aizen, he had vowed to never let her go again.

It relieved Renji to know that he had remained true to his word. That even time, and the different directions their lives turned, had not been enough to keep them completely apart.

There was always a spark, a flash of memory pulling them back together.

Against even their greatest fears, they had survived. They had been blessed where so many others had not.

Yet, now that the rubble had been cleared, and Soul Society was rebuilding, there was still a matter that remained unresolved. Something keeping Renji from truly finding peace.

The conflict had been a convenient distraction, an excuse to put off what he should have confronted decades ago, for just a little while longer. Aizen's betrayal, Hueco Mundo, the battle in Fake Karakura, Xcution, Ywach; it had been just one thing after the other.

There hadn't been a moment for them to address where things had left off.

The relief that came with surviving was tempered by a sense of unease; a realisation that now their futures were secure, there was no reason for him to put off that conversation, to avoid acknowledging the feelings he still held for Rukia.

Sighing, Renji sat up, covers spilling off of his chest. The crisp breeze that touched his shoulder was inviting, the moonlight reaching out to caress his naked skin.

It beckoned him outside to collect his thoughts and hopefully tire out his restless shell, finally finding peace for the evening. Something that seemed impossible, tossing and turning in his room.

In contrast to the Kuchiki's extravagant quarters, Renji's were rather sparse, and in constant disarray. His futon sat in the centre; the main hub of activity; spare uniforms and clothes strewn haphazardly around it. The walls were mostly bare, save for a few select few photographs he had saved; he, Kira and Hinamori with their graduating class, him being sworn in as Lieutenant of the Sixth Squad, he and Rukia visiting the graves of their old friends.

These were cherished memories he hoped to never let go of.

As a child on the streets, Renji had managed to get by without many material possessions. For the sake of survival, it was something that had become ingrained into him early on; only holding onto whatever they could carry. He learnt quickly not to grow too attached to any tangible thing or place, an attitude that carried over into his adult life.

His idea of home was forged amongst the people he stayed with.

As Renji crossed the room, slipping into his Shihakusho, he sensed a familiar presence lingering hesitantly on the other side of the door; a spiritual pressure that awoke an unsteady rhythm to his heart.

Rukia…

Swallowing, Renji faltered, not having expected to run into her. The halls of the Sixth Division were normally deserted at this time. Officers rarely venturing through unless there was an emergency.

For her to have walked over all the way from the Thirteenth, at this time of night, there must have been something bothering her. Yet, she had sought him out, when her brother was further down this same hall.

Certainly, they had always been close, but there was something about that realisation that both surprised and touched him. That she would value their relationship that much.

Strangely, though, she remained frozen before his door, hand outstretched and clenched into a fist, readying itself to knock. There was just something keeping her from making that last step.

Curiosity picked away at Renji, knowing that if he ignored her, if she were to walk away, the guilt would fester with him for the rest of the night.

She must have come to him for a reason. He couldn't, in good conscious, let that go.

Taking a breath, he swung the door open.

Rukia's eyes shifted into focus, surprise flashing across them. She moved backwards, as the door pulled away to reveal him. Renji frowned. Rukia was normally very in tune with reiatsu, yet somehow, she hadn't even noticed him approaching.

"Renji…" She spoke softly.

"Rukia?" He asked, feigning surprise. "What're ya doing here at this hour?"

Rukia's gaze trailed downward, as she toyed with the hem of her night-gown.

"I- I couldn't sleep."

Cocking his head, Renji's gaze carried over her.

"You either, huh?"

Rukia bit her lip, still refusing to look into his eyes. A faint dust of red crossed her cheeks, and suddenly Renji found himself in dumbfounded silence.

From the way she was standing, a shadow of her normally proud self, it was clear that there was something troubling weighing heavily upon her.

"Renji," she drew his name out, as if carefully planning out her next words. "I- I don't think I can stand to be alone tonight. Could… Could I stay here with you?"

Eyes bulging, Renji's lips parted, an involuntarily rush of air breaking from them. For a moment, he didn't answer, unsure if he had even heard her correctly.

From the flutter of warmth rising through his chest, he knew, deep down, that he wanted nothing more than to be for there. Yet, he drew breath cautiously, pushing the thought aside.

No matter how innocent Rukia's intentions may have been, it wouldn't be appropriate.

If Captain Kuchiki found Rukia in his room, he would surely draw conclusions about what had been going on. With horrific consequences for Renji.

Clearing his throat, Renji fought through the strain in his voice.

"B- but what if Taichou…?"

A sudden weight slumping against his chest silenced Renji, as Rukia leant into him; his hands barely lifting in time to steady her.

"I can talk to him, Renji. Just… please." She muttered.

From the shakiness of her voice and the way her head bowed, any concern Renji held for himself ebbed away.

This wasn't the time to be selfish. Rukia was looking to him as a friend, someone to be support her in a dark time.

The 13th Division was still mourning the loss of its captain. As the highest ranked surviving officer, the weight of that responsibility fell solely upon her. It couldn't have been an easy void to fill.

After the horrific way in which Ukitake-taichou had sacrificed himself for the sake of the Sereitei. Renji couldn't blame her for seeming afraid. She tried to put on a brave, smiling face; to be the leader that Ukitake-taichou, or Kaien-fukutaichou had for her; even amidst her own grief.

Yet, it couldn't have been easy.

He could still remember how roughly that same abandonment and loss had shaken Kira, Hinamori and Hisagi-senpai. Their captains had left but were still alive. They held firm in their belief that they could get through to them, could bring them back to their senses and to the Soul Society.

But Ukitake-taichou…

A shiver racked Rukia's body, a harsh exhale; much like a sob; breaking from her lips. His hand rose, unconsciously, stroking the length of her hair.

For Rukia, the pain and hardships of war still lingered.

Setting his hands on her shoulders, the shaking stilled momentarily, as Rukia looked up at him.

"A- alright…"

Renji moved aside, wordlessly ushering her into the room, his hand hovering at a distance behind her.

.

For as cramped as the room had seemed just moments ago, now, with Rukia lying inches away from him, Renji felt smothered. Sweat broke out across his skin as loose strands of hair itched at the back of his neck.

Unable to mark out her form clearly amidst the darkness, he became conscious, suddenly, of even the slightest shift of her beside him; wondering if there was any way he could read into what she was thinking or feeling.

The task was hard enough under normal circumstances. Now, his senses were dulled, and his fatigued body called out for sleep that Renji feared would never come.

He couldn't help but wonder if this was enough. If his company alone could truly bring her comfort. Perhaps he should have offered a hand to hold onto, a clasp of her shoulder, anything to try and bring her relief.

They had slipped onto the futon without exchanging a word.

There was nothing between them except for the silence. The dead of night they yearned so desperately to be broken.

Turning, Renji tried to distract himself with the cadence of her breathing; focusing on the swell of relief that simple pattern brought him.

After they had fallen to As Nodt and Mask, he could recall the time they had spent together in that Infirmary.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, they lay trapped beside one another in cold, sterile beds. They had no idea of what was going outside; if they were going to survive, or if their comrades, their nakama, were even still alive.

With no way to speak to one another, it had been the sound of her heartbeat, no matter how faint, that fuelled Renji with strength. The need to carry on.

Relying again on that reassuring sound, knowing that she was alright, lulled him into a state of calm; a cloud of sleep slowly beginning to wash over him.

Though, no sooner had Renji settled into the familiar rhythm, it was broken by the harsh gasps for breath that began to abruptly tear from Rukia's throat, her shoulders quaking.

Renji's eyes slipped open, his gaze pulled unconsciously toward her.

She had kept her back to him, as if hoping unconsciously to mask the extent of her pain. Not wanting to burden him with the brunt of her scars, feeling ashamed for already having asked this much of him. Sensing that, in seeking comfort from him, she was breaching some kind of boundary.

The thought saddened Renji. That Rukia should hesitate to turn to him for help, that she might ever worry that she was asking too much. He wanted nothing more than to sever that doubt from her mind.

His hand shifted forward carefully, as if trying to coax a scared, injured animal.

With his touch, the motion ripping through her body stilled. Yet, her muscles tensed as his naked skin caught her shoulder. A lump rose in his throat, and fleetingly, he was overcome by the temptation to pull away.

Renji shock his head. Steadfast, and holding stubbornly onto that vow he had made before her years ago, he summoned his voice.

"Rukia?"

Rukia's gaze dragged over her shoulder, her eyes eventually catching his own. That vibrant hue he had long since been captivated by burnt through even the dark of night, simmering like a lone firefly.

It was a vulnerable moment to catch someone in; drifting from the plane of unconsciousness. A point at which everything within the subconscious rested unguarded, no longer hidden behind a façade of deliberate, carefully chosen words and actions.

Yet, there was a clarity and recognition in Rukia's gaze as she found Renji, violet irises focused clearly upon him; as though his being there was not at all unnerving. As if it somehow, fit.

A moment of panic quelled by his presence

It brought a sudden, untethered intimacy between them. As though everything they couldn't find the courage to say was reflected clearly; a daunting understanding that in that moment they were exposing everything to one another, completely unguarded.

Perhaps the more shocking realisation was that, for the first time, that thought no longer scared them.

They had lingered cautiously for forty years.

It was time to finally cross the threshold.

His arms surrounded her in an instant, the distance and walls they had spent so long erecting, crumbling.

Rukia sought out Renji's embrace. His body emanated a warmth brimming with familiar comfort and security. She nestled into that space, effortlessly. It was the weight of his grasp that had remained a constant throughout her life. The one solid presence she had been able to root herself to. No matter how unstable things seemed to become, he would always be there.

"Rukia," Renji exhaled harshly, the lone word carrying more than he could ever hope to express, as he allowed her reiatsu to wash over him.

It was in that instance, that every hope, every thought he had ever had of Rukia flowed steadily back to him. Sensations from decades ago he had almost forgotten. The touch of her, the sweet scent catching in her hair.

With the years that had passed them by so swiftly, Rukia revelled in those fleeting seconds. She pulled back momentarily, her hand reaching up to caress Renji's cheek, fingers kneading at the hair on the nape of his neck. His eyes dark glistened, as they held her in reverence.

It was then that her glance dipped slightly, focusing on the curve of his lips. Her teeth gnashing against her own as she studied them, pensive.

Shivers carried across Renji's spine as he followed her train of thought. The sensation churning through him, emboldening.

His hand caught her jaw, shifting her gaze to meet his own. The touch, much like their bodies, burned. With a painstakingly slow shift of her head, she moved towards him, until he could feel her breath carrying in soft wisps.

She lingered, as if wanting to bask in the moment forever; to truly grasping the significance of it. That everything, the life together they had fought so long for could finally begin.

Renji cradled the back of her head, a soft, encouraging smile, as he coaxed her forward.

Their lips meet in a shy, chaste brush. A touch that was soft and fleeting; parted reluctantly by their self-consciousness; Renji couldn't help but compare it to the faint caresses he had dreamt of. He wondered of perhaps the haze of fatigue and desire clouding his mind had led him into a wonderful, cruel dreamscape.

Though, for as quickly as they had separated, they were drawn together once more. In part by yearning, in part to reassure one another, themselves, that this was real and true. Bursts of passion from long repressed desires drove them forward, hampered by flashes of returning clarity and shyness.

Yet, for every caress, they grew bolder and more comfortable in their exploration of each other's bodies. As each touch they had only imagined proved more wonderful than they could have ever hoped.

As street rats, there were many times where they had huddled together just like this, trying to fight off the chill. It was familiar. Yet, the gesture, much like them, had grown. Though exuding the same desperation, it was more intimate. It contained a need to encapsulate everything they had ever felt for each other; every moment time and distance had robbed them of.

Still, it struck Renji that there was no reason to rush baring their hearts. There was no reason for confessions to spill from their lips in clumsy, breathless whispers.

There was nothing that could tear them apart now.

They could bring their love into a new world, unscarred; revelling in the joy that it awoke, making them wonder why they had ever felt a reason to hesitate. Why they would ever want to deprive themselves of such happiness.

Perhaps, at first, it might not feel enough to make up for the time they had lost, to convey the feelings they kept inside.

It wouldn't stop them from trying again. Until they had found the words, the actions to properly express it.

They could take as long as they needed, until they were truly happy with it.

They had all the time in the world.

.

Sunlight spilt through the slits of the blinds, stirring Rukia from her slumber. She grumbled, shielding her eyes with the back of her forearm.

Cursing the disturbance, not out of fatigue; she had slept peacefully; but wanting to remain in the warm, cosy, tangle of sheets and limbs surrounding her.

Begrudgingly, Rukia's eyes opened, blearily adjusting to their surroundings.

The first thing she noticed was the curtain of her lover's hair, gleaming in the sunlight; a stark contrast to the pure, white sheets they rested on. Renji lay peacefully beside her, the solid mass of his arm, still resting at her back. It was an inviting, unconscious stroke, calling her to lie in.

Yet, Rukia knew that she had duties to attend to. She sat up, her arms raising above her head and stretching out the kinks in her shoulders.

Lowering her hand to the futon, she was startled by a low groan as her hand brushed against something soft and fleshy.

Turning with a jolt, it was only then that Rukia noticed the small body that had slipped in between them at some point during the night.

Rukia glanced over Ichika with a soft smile, as she snuggled into her father's chest.

Strands of blood red flickered across her eyeline, soft breaths caressing them to and fro; a vivid contrast to the violet of her eyes. The sight was still something that awed her. Two of her and Renji's most prominent features, reflected perfectly in their daughter.

Brushing the errant bang's away from Ichika's face, she leant into the touch, her expression relaxed and serene; a look uncharacteristic of her normally rambunctious self. It warmed Rukia to know, they had helped create a world where their daughter could sleep without worry, without the same dread that had loomed over their lives.

Whether it was the uncertainty they faced each day as orphans in Rukongai, or the invading forces trying to bring them harm.

They could be a constant presence in her life. To guide her and love her, the way their own family had, tragically, been unable to.

Rukia could not only see herself in those eyes, but also Hisana. The older sister she had lost. It sparked an image of her in Rukia's mind that was once merely a wisp of a memory. A connection to her she thought she might never be able to rekindle.

The picture grew more vivid each day.

It was cathartic. To find something lost, returned to her. Renji, her brother, her sister.

Years on, there was still destruction that remained from the war, seeping into their present. Much of which could never, truly be fixed. It hung the most heavily not in what had been left behind; physical markings that would eventually heal; but in what had been taken. The voids that had remained.

Rukia sensed, that this could be their fight against it.

To bring life into the world, for all that was taken from it.


End file.
